"You ought to be off in the swamps, on picket duty, then," says Harris. "Let them sleep that have a chance. For my part, I'm going to take the captain's advice. There's no knowing what sounds will wake us up, or how early."
"The sounds of muskets, I hope; and the earlier the better," says the valiant Jack. "Dang that shoe! I believe I've roasted it! Bah! look at Abe there, diving into his Testament, sure's you live."
And Winch, perceiving that Atwater paid no attention to the sneer, flung his shoe at him. The soldier was reading by the light of the flames, when the missile came, striking the book from his hands.
"Shame, shame!" cried Frank, indignantly. "Jack Winch, that is too mean."
"O, you go to"——France,—only Jack used a worse word,—"with that red rag on your arm! I don't have any thing to say to non-combatants."
Frank might not have been able to stifle his indignation but for the grave example of Atwater, who gave no more heed to Jack's shoe than he had given to his base taunt, but, silently gathering up his book again, brushed the sand from it, found his place, and resumed his reading, as composedly as if nothing had happened. Neither did Frank say any thing. But Ellis, near whom the shoe had fallen, tossed it back with a threat to consign it to the fire if it came that way again.
"Wonder if my pocket-book got wet any," said Harris, taking out his money and examining it.
"O, you feel mighty proud of your winnings!" said Jack, who seemed bent on picking a quarrel with some one.
"Yes, I do," said Harris. "I'm just so proud of it as this,"—reaching something towards the drummer boy. "Here, Frank, is all the money, I believe, that I've won off you. We're going into a fight to-morrow, and nobody knows how we shall come out of it. I want to stand right with every body, if I can."
Frank was too much astonished to accept the money. He seemed to think there was some joke in it.